The Prince's Christmas Vow

“And you will. But I don’t want anyone seeing them until I do some more work on them.” Cutting him off before he could launch into a rebuttal, she asked, “Did your meeting with the king go well?”

“It went as well as could be expected.” Demetrius scraped the tomato pieces into the salad bowls. “I told him about all of your wonderful work at Residenza del Rosa. He’s quite impressed. He’d like to meet with you sometime.”

The king wanted to meet with her?

She didn’t respond, not exactly sure what to say. She knew that she was supposed to be honored and tripping all over herself to accept, but her one and only encounter with the king had been anything but impressive. The king had been skeptical about her intentions as far as her marriage to his son.

The king had never insisted that she leave Demetrius, but he did make it clear if she were to stay what would be expected of her. He pointed out how she would be under constant scrutiny by the press. In her mind, all she could think about was her mother’s disease being documented in the tabloids. How could she do that to her mother who was already struggling? And how could she do that to Demetrius?

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea for us to meet.”

“You worry too much. I told you I fixed things. He understands about the mix-up with the papers—”

“You told him about my mother?”

Demetrius stilled the knife and turned to her. “I wouldn’t do that. I know how hard it was for you to tell me. When you’re ready, you can tell people.”

She breathed easier. “Grazie.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I wouldn’t intentionally hurt you by breaking your trust.”

But she was going to hurt him unless she cleared things up about the kiss. “Demetrius, we need to talk.”

“I’m listening.”

She took a deep, steadying breath, held it a second and then released it. “About yesterday—the kiss. It was a mistake.” Was it her imagination or did his body tense? “It...it was an emotional moment for me and you were comforting me—”

“And things got out of control. Don’t worry. I didn’t read anything into it. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“You did?” When he nodded, she added, “So we’re still good?”

There was a slight pause. “Don’t worry. We’re still friends. Now let’s eat this amazing salad.”

Knowing they were still friends should have made her feel better, but she couldn’t help but think about what she was missing. Her gaze followed Demetrius as he carried their lunch to the table next to the windows. If only her life were different.

* * *

Just stay focused.

Zoe stifled a yawn.

Instead of reporting to her shared office at the palace each day, she now spent her days at the mansion. Piece by piece her vision for a relaxing atmosphere where family members would feel comfortable visiting with residents was coming together. When she wasn’t pointing out where things went, she was painting her vision of a serene beach on the ballroom wall—the drawing Demetrius had finally settled on from her sketch pad.

However, Zoe had cut her day short and returned to the beach house. She’d thought of something she wanted to add to the mural, but she needed to do some research before she sketched it out.

For the umpteenth time, her fingers paused over the keyboard as her thoughts drifted away. Memories of the steamy lip-lock she’d shared with Demetrius played over and over. Even though they’d both agreed that it had been a mistake, she had a hard time defining that passionate, toe-curling kiss as a mistake. And she wanted more. Lots more.

The chirp of a bird out on the deck drew her out of her daydream. No matter how amazing that kiss had been, it couldn’t be repeated. They were wrong for each other. After all, he was a royal prince bound by duty to produce the next healthy heir to the throne. And she, well, she was a mere commoner with no nobility in her past, no prestigious connections, nothing to offer the crown except some faulty genes.

Stirring up the burning embers between them would only lead to trouble.

The chimes of the doorbell rang through the beach house.

She rushed to the door. A smile lifted her lips in the hope it’d be Demetrius. But he didn’t normally ring the bell or wait to be greeted at the door. So who else could it be?

She swung open one of the expansive teal doors and there stood two uniformed men from the palace staff. Each held a cardboard box.